“See? Not interested...”
She gets down on her knees, gazing up at me innocently. I clench my fists. I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of thinking that I want her.
But then she unzips me, and pulls my cock out. And I crumble.
She's licking me like a lollipop, her tongue running up and down the length of my shaft, swirling over the head of my throbbing cock, sending shivers up my spine and down into my balls. Teasing, and tempting. She gives me a look of smug satisfaction as she watches me. Enough. I'm going to fuck that smirk right off her face.
I wrap my hands into her soft hair, and press her head down, sliding my cock into her warm, wet mouth. She responds eagerly, sucking me as she moves her lips up and down. Jesus Christ, she's good at this. I take control, moving faster and faster. I can't think about anything but her – everything else has faded completely. I can feel the back of her throat bashing against the head of my cock, and then she takes me further, until her lips are touching the base of my dick.
My balls tighten and I know I'm going to blow my load at any second. I try to pull out, but her hands are gripping my ass and she won't let me. Groaning, I give her what she wants, my cum pumping into her mouth and down her throat.
As soon as I am done, the spell is broken. I jerk her head away, and fasten my pants.
“Thanks, darling,” I say coolly. She's made her point, but she can fuck off if she thinks I'm going to have sex with her. I'm sure Carl gives her as much dick as she can handle.
“Happy now?” I say, as I turn to walk away.
“Happy?” she says, and there's a note of bitterness in her voice. “When is anyone ever happy?”
She slams the bedroom door in my face. Suddenly, I don't feel so sure of myself. I thought that she was making a power play, but the look on her face... Is she unhappy? Is that why she does what she does? But then I remember Carl. That's the kind of guy she chooses to be with. She's just a spoiled princess who wants to have her cake and eat it, is all.
Chapter Four - Honey
I feel as if I'm going insane. Just a short time ago, everything was okay. Well, not okay exactly – I was unhappy and desperately lonely. But my biggest problem was finding a way to sneak out behind my father's back, and wondering if he'd ever let me live my own life. But now... Now, I'd give anything to go back to that.
I'm not lonely any more. Today, my father has moved Carl into the house, without bothering to ask me how I felt about it. I'm not blind, though – I know why he's done it. It's pretty obvious from the little he tells me that the 'threat' hasn't gone away. If anything, it seems to have gotten worse. The only thing I've been able to work out, mostly from listening at cracks, is that my father is getting sent letters, and he can't trace the source. I don't know what's in them – probably blackmail or extortion. My father has now insisted that Dragon is with me whenever I leave the house, even if I'm with Carl.
All four of us are in the living room when Dad tells us that Dragon will be with me 24/7, and it's excruciatingly embarrassing. Carl is horrified, and immediately claims that it will damage his career and his public image to be seen in the company of a tattooed thug like Dragon. Those are his exact words – tattooed thug. I want to die. Dragon, to his credit, doesn't react at all, and just carries on sitting there silently.
“I just don't think I can make that work,” Carl says, looking meaningfully at my father. For a moment, I am filled with relief. I am finally going to be rid of him. But instead, my dad suggests that we simply have our dates at home. I expect Carl to object – he loves nothing more than belittling the servers at the finest restaurants in the state – but instead he agrees. Then my father points out that it's easier for him to stay here than to travel back and forth from his apartment. Carl once more agrees, and I feel like a trap has been sprung. Something in the way the two of them are acting makes me think that this little scene was cooked up for my benefit, and they'd already decided that Carl would move in long before this conversation.
After this, I decide that I need to know more about what is going on behind my back. I need to see exactly what this 'threat' entails. I need to read the letters. I know damn well that my father won't tell me, and I will never give Carl the satisfaction of even asking him. Instead, I wait until the pair of them aren't around, and I ask Dragon.
“I don't know the details of it,” he says, but he's not making eye contact. Bullshit.
“That's okay,” I say lightly. “If you don't know, you don't know.”
I head for my father's study.
“He's not there,” Dragon says as I open the door.
“Yeah, I know,” I say.
I start punching numbers into the safe; my mother's birth date. I know he'll never change it. The safe springs open and I begin to rifle through the contents – mostly bundles of cash and handguns. I spot a bundle of paper at the back and pull it out.
“Wait! Don't... don't read them,” he says.
“I thought you didn't know the details,” I say.
He runs his hands through his hair, sighing.
“I know the details,” he admits. “It's... it's sick shit. Sick shit aimed at you.”
I feel faint. I knew they wouldn't be pleasant, but I'd never imagined that I'd be mentioned in them.
“That explains why nobody wants to tell me what's in them,” I say, sitting at my father's desk.
“Please, just put them back,” he says. “You don't need to read them.”
I ignore him as I open the first one. Jesus Christ. They start off like he said, sick shit, about taking me and hurting me. But as they go on, there's specific details about places I've been and the clothes I wore. Somebody is watching me.
I jump as I feel a hand on my shoulder. Dragon has moved across the room, but I'm so engrossed I don't even notice. It's the first time he's touched me since the first day, when I blew him to prove the point that he still wanted me.
“I won't let anyone hurt you,” he says. “But you can see why your father's acting like this. Why he's got you on lockdown. Why he's moving the douchebag in.”
“Carl,” I correct him automatically, and he takes his hand off my shoulder.
“Just put them back,” he says, and his voice is cool.
~~~~~~~
Two weeks later, and the only consolation of having Carl move in is that we're not sharing a room. In fact, apart from the occasional kiss on the cheek that's very clearly for my father's benefit, he hasn't touched me. But that doesn't mean I haven't been touched...
Dragon. I lie awake in bed at night, feeling guilty and ashamed. Something changed in me, the day I read those letters. Knowing that some creep is out there, watching me, thinking about me... I thought it would make me afraid, but instead, I find it makes me angry. Angry at my father, at Carl, at Dragon, at the world. I'm sick and tired of being the sheltered little princess, and the only way I can let it out is with Dragon.
I tell myself that it's over, that I'm going to stop. I have to stop, for both our sakes. I wake up in the morning, filled with resolve. I'm cold to him, and I fawn over Carl in front of him, trying to make him hate me. But when Carl's at the office, we have too much time together. Somewhere in the sniping and bitching, we get too close, and then it explodes. We tear off each other's clothes, and he's inside me. There's no lovemaking involved – we don't hold hands and gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. Instead it's savage, primal lust, and it's completely addictive. Each time is riskier than the last. He's fucked me in the park, at the mall. Tonight, we ended up on the dining room table, while my father was on the phone in the next room. This has to end. But how?
~~~~~~~
I'm in the shower, soaping up. It's a big night tonight – my father's birthday. Every other year, there's been a room booked and a huge party, but this time he's holding the bash at our home. He says that he wants to breathe some life into the place, but I think that's really because he's afraid. A big, public party can't be controlled, and anyone could slip in u
ninvited. I'm excited, because it's a relief from the tension that's been silently filling the house. My father is completely and utterly stressed out. It's different to when Mom died – back then, he was just so sad that it broke my heart. Now, he's rattled, jumping at noises and snapping at everyone around him.
The guests will be pretty much just the guys who work with and for my father, and I'm hoping that he'll relax a little if he doesn't have to stand on ceremony. On the other hand, though, I'm worried about how Carl will act. He's made it pretty clear what he thinks about people like that. But he'll be outnumbered a hundred to one, so hopefully he'll keep his opinions to himself.
I hear the bathroom door click quietly. Oh, God. Dragon slips into the shower behind me, naked. He wraps his arms around my waist, and starts to nuzzle at my neck.
“You've been avoiding me,” he says.
“Yeah.” He noticed, then.
“Why?” His hands are gliding over my skin, and I can feel his cock pressing against me.
“Because of this! We can't keep doing this. We have to stop.”
“Because of Carl? Do you feel bad about cheating on him?”
His hands are on my breasts, rubbing over my nipples, making them into stiff peaks. I know I should tell him to stop, but it feels so good...
“I don't feel bad. I hate him.” Where did that come from? I've never told Dragon how I really feel about Carl.
“Then why are you with him?” he asks, surprised.
“I... I don't know. Because it makes my dad happy. You've seen how it is, he really wants this for me.”
“He wants you to be with someone that you hate?”
He traces a finger down my spine.
“No... he just... I don't know...” I can barely think, let alone explain how I've somehow ended up being dragged into a relationship with a man I despise.
“Dump his sorry ass, then.” He makes it sound so simple, so reasonable. I try to drag my mind back to what I was saying.
“We can't do this any more because of my dad. If he finds out...”
“He'll kill me. I know. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself,” he says.
“It's not just that. It's me. He won't hurt me or anything, but he'll be... disappointed. He thinks I'm a good girl. I can't bear the thought of him knowing what I really am,” I say, realizing it's true.
“Okay then,” he says. “We'll stop. But do you want to stop before...”
With one hand, he begins to massage my clit. But there's something else. The finger that was tracing along my spine moves further down, until it's gently pressing against my asshole. I freeze, feeling scared but also excited. I've never done that before, not with anyone. I've always been afraid it would hurt.
“... or after,” he finishes.
“I haven't – I mean – not before...” I manage.
“I can be gentle,” he says.
There's a bottle of baby oil on the shelf, and he picks it up. When his finger moves back to my ass, it's slick. I tense up as I feel it slide in, but it doesn't hurt like I thought it would.
“Is this good?” he asks, moving his finger back and forth.
“Yeah,” I breathe. It is good. Strange, but good.
There's a feeling of pressure as he adds a second finger, keeping the rhythm going. It's more intense, but still manageable.
“Are you ready for me?” he whispers.
Am I? His cock is long and thick, and suddenly I wonder if this is such a good idea. But...
“Gentle, remember?” I say, and he chuckles.
There's a weird feeling of emptiness as his fingers pull away. The I feel the bulbous head of his cock, pressing against me. Holy shit. It's a lot bigger, and the sensation of being stretched is way stronger. It's somewhere between pleasure and pain.
He's taking it really slow, though. Each time, he pushes it in just a little further, before sliding back a little. Every time he goes deeper, there's a burst of pressure, of being opened, and I soon realize that I'm waiting for it, anticipating it. I want him to go deeper. All the time, he's whispering in my ear, making sure I'm not in pain. He's being tender, and I'm amazed to find that I trust him not to hurt me, not to start slamming it in without any care for anything beyond his own pleasure.
I feel his balls on my ass, and realize that he's all the way in.
“This is all of it,” he says. “Tell me if I go too hard.”
I feel full, and stretched, and breathless, but it's a good feeling. As he starts to move faster, his hand moves round to my clit again, working it in time with his movements. I start to press against him, urging him on, begging his to go faster as the orgasm starts to build. Soon he's fucking my ass as hard as he does my pussy, but it feels amazing. As the fireworks start to explode, waves of electricity pulse through my body. His cock starts to pulse, and I am pushed even higher as he spurts inside me, groaning.
We stand there for a moment in the hot steam, floating back down to earth. His strong arms are wrapped around me, and I feel safe and warm, content for the first time in forever.
“What a way to say goodbye,” he says.
“Does it have to be?” I ask.
“You're the one who wants to stop doing this,” he points out.
“I know, but...” I take a deep breath. “Sneaking around is one thing. What if we were together? Like, as a couple?”
“Like you and Carl?” he says pointedly.
He squeezes me tighter for a second, and then sighs.
“No,” he says slowly. “No offense, but you don't want me. You want someone to rescue you. From your douchebag boyfriend, from your daddy's grip. You want a knight in shining armor, but you need to sort your shit out and stand on your own two feet. Trust me, it's the only way.”
He kisses me, to take away the sting of the rejection, and leaves.
I get dressed mechanically, not paying attention to what I'm doing. Dimly, I can hear the sound of guests arriving, but I'm miles away, thinking about what Dragon said. I don't care that he turned me down – it was a crazy suggestion. I don't even know why I said it. But everything else that he'd said had struck a chord.
It was all true. If my father really loves me, then he won't want me to be with Carl, not when he makes me so unhappy. But I can't just provide my father with an alternative to Carl. I need to stand up for myself, and tell Dad how I feel. Tell him that he can't control my life any more. After all, what's the worst that could happen? I'm a grown adult – if I wanted to, I could move out. I don't need his money. I could get a job. Yeah, I'm not really qualified to have a career like Carl, but I can do things! I could wait tables, or work in a store, anything to cover the bills. I could rent a little apartment. Millions of Americans do it every day, so why not me? He can't keep me locked down forever. The stupid letters are only letters. There's no proof that anything is going to happen to me.
Or maybe it won't come to that. Maybe he'd understand that I need my own life, and be accepting of it. The point was, Dragon was right. I need to sort my shit out and stand up for myself. I don't want to ruin Dad's party, so I decide to go along with things for tonight and talk to him first thing tomorrow afternoon. He'll be easier to deal with once his hangover's worn off a little.
The noise from downstairs is growing louder, and I realize that I'm running late. Everyone will have arrived by now. I say a silent prayer that a guest has already snapped and beaten Carl unconscious, and then I head downstairs, feeling like a weight has lifted from my shoulders.
As I get to the top of the staircase, I see that Carl is waiting for me at the bottom, with all his limbs intact. Shame. I'm halfway down when I hear my father yell out.
“She's here!”
Nearly all the guests are gathered in the hall, and at my father's shout, more are crowding in. Every person is looking at me, and they're all smiling. All except one. Dragon is standing at the back, off to one side, and his expression is like granite.
What the hell is going on?
An
d then I catch sight of the banner. My blood turns to ice. Instead of saying 'Happy Birthday' - like it should, at my father's birthday party – it says something else. The banner reads 'Congratulations Honey & Carl'.
No. Oh god, no. Don't let this be what I think it is.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” My father's voice carries through the crowd, hushing them. “Before this party gets started, Carl here needs to ask my daughter a question!”
I watch in horror as Carl goes down on one knee, producing a small velvet box from his pocket. He opens it, and I see my mother's engagement ring.
“Honey,” he says loudly, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
The crowd holds their breath, waiting. I know they're not waiting to see what I might say. They're waiting to cheer, because they're at an engagement party, my engagement party, and that's what happens. I look at Carl, and feel nothing. I look at my father. The tension that has been lining his face lately has gone. He's proud, and happy. I can't bring myself to wipe that look off his face. I don't look at Dragon.
“Yes,” I say.
The crowd cheers.
~~~~~~~
I've made a huge mistake. That's the thought that runs through my mind on a constant loop. I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare as he slides the ring onto my finger. Faces swim up in front of me, smiling, congratulating. I want to scream, to cry, to run away, out into the night. But I can't. Instead, I let Carl lead me proudly around the party like I'm the prize hog at the county fair. What's wrong with me? I was so happy when I decided to confront my father. And now, I've thrown it all away.
I become aware that someone has asked me a question, and I am jolted back to reality. We are talking to Mr Donaldson, one of my father's business associates.
“Pardon?” I say politely. “The music is so loud!”
“I was saying, I'll have to get Carl here to take a look at my case. The damn feds.”
“I'm sure he'd love to,” I say, even though I have no idea what case he's talking about.
Dragon: A Bad Boy Romance Page 5
